


To Be A Better Nation

by lilac_red



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Latin Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anger, Angst, Betrayal, Countries Using Human Names, Explicit Language, F/M, Fighting, Forgiveness, Friend Love, Gen, Historical, Human & Country Names Used, Implied Relationships, M/M, Minor Character(s), Minor Romance, Minor USUK, Multi, Other, Saddness, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Slight cross dressing, Teen Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-09 13:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5541794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilac_red/pseuds/lilac_red
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mexico is viewed, by the majority of the countries, as a stoical country; still recovering from the past both emotionally and physically. However, she resigned herself to join her government's underhanded schemes and tolerant of the thoughts the countries and her own people have about her. She keeps to herself unless she's dealing with business matters.</p><p>Isabella is described as having a limpid yet excitable personality like her brothers. She enjoys living everyday to the fullest and makes her family her top priority at all times. But she's not a perfect human being, she's made mistakes, horrible mistakes, like everyone else.</p><p>Now you're probably wondering, why is this relevant? It's not like these two are ever going to meet. </p><p>If you think so, then your wrong.</p><p>Because they will meet for only a second and it only takes one sentence.</p><p>One line of coherent words. One. To make Mexico snap in front of the entire world, and Isabella to contemplate her life after high school. </p><p>That's when they'll meet for the first time and where they'll switch places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

First Chapter should be up tonight!!!!!


	2. Chapter 1: College, Guns, & Switcheroos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction between Mexico and Human Mexico.
> 
> I'm sorry this is so late!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I start I just wanted to say that this story was inspired after reading another author's work (whose name I don't know because I just couldn't find them anymore! No matter how hard I tried!). So if you're reading this author-san I just wanted to say thank you for inspiring me!!!! :) :)

"Have you thought about what you want to do after high school?"

It was a crisp sunny day in the Central Park of Long Island. The grass had started to revive itself into its plush color green color. A few birds were spotted diving above the water catching flies for their meals. The sun, though big and powerful during the summer still didn't have the power to completely melt the compacted snow near the edges of the pond.

A group of youths played soccer, or what her egomaniac British friend calls football, a safe distant from the water. The ball rolling over the striving grass and the occasionally kid cheering for their team.

Another bunch of far older youths played football (rugby) from a-not-so safe distance. Their ball soared into the air in a horizontal disposition, until gravity worked its magic to bring it down earth and coincidentally over the empty water a few yards away from the other. Yelps and profanities rang around the park as the winning team (consisting of her two older brothers and their blond friends) huddled for a group chant but where tackled to the ground by the losing team (the brunettes. Still, the smiles on all their faces made it clear that they were all having a good time. It made Isabella envious and regret her decision of not participating.

Wrenching her eyes away from the smiling people, Isabella reluctantly looked up at her best friend's bitter, honey gold eyes. He was staring back at her an indication that she was going to answer him, no matter what. This just made Isabella feel like their three-year age gap was wider and held more significance that it needed to.

"... Um," she gave up stalling, "Go to college?"

"Is that a fact or a question?"

"Er... Both?" She replied hesitantly but still she managed to keep her gaze from falling to the jacket they were both currently sitting on. Neither uttered a word as their silent staring competition continued.

A breeze swept from where they were sitting and lightly tousled her Italian friend's dark-brown hair along with his odd curl she was warned (threatened) not to touch; a bad idea on his part because it just made her all the more curious in knowing what would happen if she did touch it. She shivered as the wind managed to make her colder despite wearing a long-sleeved shirt underneath her not-so-thin jacket, even as she pulled the zipper all the way close to keep her remaining warmth.

Isabella hadn't realized she had dropped her gaze from the demanding amber colored orbs, until her eyes flicked up again and her forehead made contact with Lovino's fingers. He had flicked her.

"Ow!" The Mexican yelped and brought her hands to her forehead instantaneously causing her to almost fall on her back if not for the Italian catching her, "Why did you do that for, Lovi?" She whined as she straightened herself again.

"Answer a question properly and look at someone in the eye when you're talking to them." He huffed and proceeded to stare at the people playing football.

Isabella resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him like a little kid. Gosh, he was more of the overbearing father type than Alfred or Matthew or Toni or even her own father! But then again, it was because Lovino was like that, that Isabella found herself acting more like a girl her age than with her family. Sure, they were all responsible (at a specific time) but to not to the point where she felt okay to not have to act like the 'mature' one of the group (except for a select few).

Anyway, it wasn't like she _wanted_ to respond the way she did to the question. It was just... that she hadn't really put much thought into her future as she needed too. Of course, she had applied to several colleges, and been accepted with an undecided major, scholarships, talked to the school's counselor,  looked at several places around town  for employment, yet she was still uncertain if . Even when she asked her family and friends for any hints or tips they all gave her the same reassuring smile with the same not-so-reassuring sentence, "Don't stress about having a major just yet, you have two years before you _really_ need to worry about it!"

Not very helpful now, huh? 

On the brighter side, Isabella understood that she had to go to college no matter what and she could at least procrastinate for another year or two. Ho-rah!

"You know," Lovino suddenly said and stopped Isabella from going into anymore inner turmoil, "We're in spring break and it's almost May. You'll be graduating and you need a clear-cut answer where you're going to go and what you _want_ to do." His gaze finally made its way back to the Mexican girl sitting next to him on his jacket, "So hurry up and choose already! You'll save yourself a lot of time, stress, and money if you do." His cheeks flushed as he tried to make his tone sound more annoyed than worried; the Italian never enjoyed showing affection even if it was minimal or towards a puppy if people were around.

If he were talking to a complete stranger or someone he had recently met, Isabella was certain he would be: A) called a jerk and B) slapped or kicked on any part of his body. That seemed to be the reaction most people had whenever Lovino was blunt with them. Thankfully though, his friends (yes they were his friends no matter how much he denies it), especially Isabella and his younger twin-brother Feliciano, knew it was just his way of showing concern for others; like how Arthur acted towards Alfred or Francis. 

He just wants Isabella to have a better, if not great, future with a stable income doing something she enjoys doing for a living. _Yo juro, you worry about me more than my own brothers, my own parents even, Lovino!_ She grinned at the man who was trying to look away.

"W-Why are you grinning like an idiot, _ragazza_!" He demanded while running a hand through his hair, careful not to touch the curl.

"Mmm... no reason!" It wouldn't be wise to push him; so, she settled on just resting her head on his shoulder contently. Seeing Lovino acting all flustered made Isabella feel like the gap she felt between them was a little smaller than before.

He clicked his tongue in response, seemingly annoyed at the lack of reasoning, but otherwise he didn't complain when the younger girl placed her head on his shoulders. Instead he moved slightly closer in order for her to feel more comfortable and looked out into the field where their friends seemed to be fighting about which team got the ball this time. A few robins pecked at the ground then flew off and a whistle blew in the distance as the soccer ball the youths were practicing with had landed several meters from where they were station, but close enough to the Italian and Mexican.

"I'll get it!" Isabella suddenly announced to the youths and a startled Lovino before taking off to retrieve the black and white ball that had rolled into some bushes. While searching she saw a spark fly from one bush and land on another, but ignored it after finding the ball in the one next to it. _Probably just firefly_ , she reasoned as she picked up the ball and kicked it to the coach, who thanked her before returning to his team.

Another spark flew from the same bush she found the ball and Isabella couldn't help but lean a little to look for it. It would just have been a small, quick look before skipping back to her place on Lovino's jacket and continued watching her friends Blond's vs. Brunette's football match if it wasn't for the hollers and curses she heard that caused her to turn around:

"Fu-- ISABELLA!"

"Oh shit!"

"Isabella!"

"Isabella!"

"Isabella, watch out!" And have her face collide with the head of a flying football.

"ISABELLA!!!" Sending her descending airborne body into the bushes that were now emitting silver flares in the airs and around the girls body making her feel like she was falling further and further away than ought to be.

"Isabella, can you hear me?"

"What the fuck did you do Gil!" Were the last things she heard before closing her eyes and letting her consciousness fade. Letting herself fall deeper and deeper and farther and farther away from her world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a beautiful day in sunny San Diego. The heat was tolerable (a neutral 75 degrees), the weather impeccable, the streets clean from litter, and the restaurants and stores booming in business by the many spring-breakers who have come to relax and enjoy their time off school. Overall, it was a wonderful day for anyone.

" _Salganse de alli_ (Get out of there)." That is if you weren't currently in a (stuffy) office building and being shot at by a gun.

" _Que se salgan detras la maldita mesa_! (Step out from behind that cursing table!)" Two more shots were fired and they splintered the edges of the large round table, being used as a shield at the moment and shielding 12 unlucky nations, and startling the one's who dared peak from them at one point. The others who had managed to escape before the mayhem involved bullets, had either left the building in a hurry fearing for their life or waited outside the door for a chance to help the other twelve.

Fifty-two minutes ago, before the disarray of papers, overturned chairs, broken windows, bullet holes, and shrills, everything had been as it should; everyone paying halfhearted attention to the topic at hand or nation speaking (unless it was Germany because he was scaring). This year's world meeting was booked in one of the most extravagant buildings in San Diego, California-- One America Plaza. The obelisk-shaped tower, 34-story building, is equip with a museum, trolley station, tasteful decor in and out, and, of course, a magnificent skyline view of the city itself and the city's body of water. America (like always) had pulled all the stops to show everybody what a great country he is, despite the rumors or actions his government had taken. Needless to say it worked, because many nations had arrived earlier than planned just to ride the train or explore the museums within the building.

Though not everything was exactly the same. Apparently, Mexico's presence was _mandatory_ for this year's particular meeting in America; and none said why, not even Canada. Though she reluctant and seething at first because what if it's just another stupid matter they end up resolving themselves? A topic that doesn't even get mentioned? A topic they forget? A prank? Or worse, when nothing is resolved in the end and she just waited a whole 168 hours sitting in a chair listening to other countries bicker?! She has better things to do with her time than sit around and fight for two weeks, like re-establishing the basis her own damn country! Also she just really didn't want to go! In the end, she really had no choice in the matter; and so she set off, on foot, for America in her black military uniform.

Upon arrival of the set time and place, Mexico had a pretty good idea what the topic was about. Like every country (well, almost every country), she tends to keep herself updated on the latest news around the world and more specifically her own; as a part of the U.S. and all. The upcoming election. It came as no surprise that all were worried about the super-nation's elections, after all the results affect their fate greatly. Still, it upset the country as one particular proposition from a candidate came to mind, but she kept her anger at bay knowing that stirring those feelings will get her nowhere. With a heavy sigh she walked into the room and sat in her assigned seat.

Four hours into the meeting, Mexico felt her blood boil at the sudden collapse of order within the conference room. Something that involved a crying Francis and Belgium and a hostile Netherlands. Luckily, Germany and Russia were enough to at least shorten the dispute until another time. It took them one forty-seven minutes because no one else had helped. She bit her lip from screaming.

Two hours later, at exactly 5:15, America had finished reading the candidates propositions, slide shows, charts of intended progress, and videos (more funny than serious) and was now looking for feedback. Mexico was gripping polished-wooden table with with dear life to keep herself from commenting, her nails digging at the fabric of her black gloves. The anger she tried to hard to keep down was leaking.

"M-Mexico? Are you okay, eh?" Canada, sitting dangerously close to the ticking time bomb, asked with sincerity after catching sight of the country trembling.

Quietly, Mexico shut her eyes and inhaled. Tuned all the worlds' noises from her ears then counted to ten and after she was she finish counting, opened her muddy brown eyes and exhaled. She was just about to give the quiet country a nod when she heard, "... wall. So great and effective that they'll name it the Trump Wall." Several countries snickered at America's lame attempt at mimicking the candidate's gruff voice, causing other countries to join the tom-foolery and try to upstage him; even Canada played along!

Then suddenly, as if time had fast forward, Mexico found herself with guns in both hands firing a round at America's laptop then multiple at Switzerland and Finland until they scurried out. Screams resonated throughout the soundproof room, distracting Mexico from her intended target(s) and firing elsewhere subsequently making the bullets ricochet if they made contact with metal. Bodies began to fling themselves on the ground to avoid being hit, others ran around in circles, some tried to take authority, and a few used their briefcases to shield themselves. Germany had been one to try and take command along with Spain only to be responded with a flurry of bullets solely directed at them. Several took the opportunity and dashed out of the room but only 3/4 made it until the bullets a shot on doorway was fired. Sending the poor souls running back behind the table that Russia, Germany, Spain, and Romano were holding in an inclined position with a few chairs. 

~

Presently:

" _Cobardes_!" She yelled at the group still hiding behind the table, seizing fire for a fraction of a second," _Dejen de ser un monton de nenas y salganse! Putos cobardes!_ " 

"In English, dude!" American hollered, head popping up from the table, and laughed obnoxiously. Four shots were fired, "Woah," and he ducked, "I almost got hit!"

"What a surprise! What did you think would happen?!" 

"I don't know. Make her laugh at my hilarious joke?"

"You fucking git! How about you concentrate and explain what the Hell is happening?!" England yelled above the noise of bullets flying above their heads and hitting the wall instead of them.

"How am I supposed to know what's going on with her? I'm not Mexico!"

"Then tell us what she's saying!"

"I don't speak Spanish!" Not willing to add the things he did understand.

"She's a bleeding part of you! How can you not know?!'

"Dude... that sounds so creepy."

"America!"

"Hush," France covered the bickering nations mouth with his hankies, almost chocking them in the process. 

Satisfied with the silence Germany turned to Spain, "Alright. Now can you tell us what she is saying?"

"Si, she's saying 'cowards, stop being a bunch of sissies and come out of there; fucking cowards,' from what I heard." Spain sighed very aware that his ex-colony was angry and he could do nothing to calm her down (since he already failed once). 

"She sounds very upset, " Italy added into their conversation, but none looked very convinced.

"She's not 'very upset.' She's fucking pissed!" Romano clarified and the majority nodded.

"Why is she though?" China asked, hugging his briefcase to his chest.

"We all knowing it has something to do with Ame--" Russia was cut off.

"Sh!" Prussia shushed them all, "Do you un-awesome guys hear that?" He whispered trying to ignore the murderous aura the giant country was throwing his way.

"I do not hear anything, Mr. Prussia." Japan answered as the others strained to hear what Prussia heard.

"Exactly! We don't hear anything!" He fist pumped as the it took a moment for the others to register what he meant and finally catch their breaths.

"Ha!" An excitable America scoffed loud enough for Mexico to hear, "Did you run out of ammo? Loser!"

"Shut up, America!" Several countries whisper-yelled as they stuffed his mouth with Francis' hanky again.

"Do you think she did?"

"I don't know."

"One of us should check."

"Good Idea."

"But who?"

"Ve~ not me!"

"I volunteer Prussia, da?"

"What?!"

"Are we all in agreement?"

"N--"

"Good, run along now Prussia," England pinched his arm to get the ex-nation moving. No one dared to defy Russia when he was angry and also they all valued their lives.

"Ow, I'm going, I'm going," The forced (ex) nation muttered as he poked his head from the side of their round table-shield-thing and looked for any danger; meaning Mexico. He didn't see her.

"Okay," The Prussian confirmed from out of the shield, " I think the coast is-- Huh? H-Hey, there!" Everyone froze at the abrupt change in tone, "H-Haven't really talked to you but S-Spai-- H-H-Hey! What you got in the case there? W-What are you pulling out? Is that--"  A soft _click_ reached their ears before Prussia's girlish scream and the deafening sound of an automated machine firing bullets at the spot the white-haired, red-eyed nation was at seconds again.

"A machine gun?! She got past security with a _machine gun_!!" Prussia screamed in order to be heard above the noise and by the other nations who were covering their ears.

"How did she manage to get through?" China also yelled.

"I don't know, dudes!" America tried to defend himself, "She probably bribed the guards!"

"Someone better be fucking fired after this, America!" Britain demanded from the nation sitting next to him.

"At least she's using the _present_ you got her, eh?" Canada rebuked loud enough for them to hear.

"You gave her a machine gun as a present?" Spain frowned, his green eyes glowering in disapproval.

"I didn't know what to get her for Christmas!" 

"Ever heard of gift cards, you bastard?!" Romano reprimanded. Even in the mist of certain doom the countries still find a way to fight with each other until the bitter end.

Mexico's rage was beyond her control. Her boiling anger from before had moved on to bubble and foam from the depths of her core as a country. Memory after memory of her past frustrations and anguish came at her all at once and it didn't help that she was already over the edge of self-control. And like a fool, she threw caution and reason in the air and went with what made her feel better. She knew what she was doing would result in possible severed trading ties with some countries and declaration of war with other; but she just didn't care anymore. 

If that meant needing a machine gun to vent out her frustrations, then so be it. 

And it would have all gone the way she described if not for the voice that uttered a cry, "ISABELLA!" she heard and turned around, ceasing fire. She half-expected to see Switzerland or Finland ready to fire at her, but didn't. However, hearing the cry again and catching the sight of a glimmer above her, Isabella felt compelled to look up and seeing a floating body. There was no time for her blink as it fell right on top her, hard and heavy, knocking Mexico out and feel like she was falling somewhere very deep but warm.

~

"Did you hear that?"

"I think she stopped."

"Really?"

"Go check, Prussia."

"Why me!"

"Go check,da?"

"Fine!" He groaned and poked his head from the side, "It stopped and I think she collapsed."

" _Que_ (What)?!" Spain jumped from his place and ran towards the collapsed girl.

" _Chigi_ (Shit)!" Romano cursed as he trailed behind him

"Spain! _Fratello_! Don't go!" Italy called after them but also followed taking along Germany, Japan, and the rest of the hiding nations.

" _Mexico! Mexico! Are you okay? Can you hear me_?" Spain begged in Spanish as he kneeled at the center of the enclosed oval.

"She can't answer you, she's out cold!" Romano gestured towards the darkish bruise forming on her forehead before proceeding to hit Spain upside the head, "And stop acting like the character of some bad drama!"

"Did someone hit her?"

"What did she get with?"

" _Ano_ ," Japan cleared his throat and waited (uncomfortably) as all eyes were on him, "has anybody noticed that she is wearing different crothes from before?" All eyes moved to the girls casual outfit. Semi-dirty sneaker, tight blue jeans, a red polo jacket (zipped hiding her long sleeve shirt), and a rose accessory near her right ear.

"Mr. Prussia, did you notice if she was wearing different crothes when you first saw her with the machine gun?"

Prussia rubbed his chin and closed his, " _Nein_ , but I did notice that she was wearing some bad-ass black gloves when holding the machine gun." 

There eyes traveled to her hands and found what they were half-expecting, "No gloves," Britain exhaled, "but how--"

"Ow," Mexico (?) groaned but made no attempt to move.

"Mexico! Mexico! Are you alright?" Spain went back to worrying about his ex-colony.

"... ni... kay..." She mumbled as she tried to lift her head from the ground.

"What did she say?" The others shrugged.

"A-Antonio? I-I'm--ow-- okay," Isabella tried to reassure her friends by sitting up by herself, though she clutched her head in process because of the massive pain she felt. She blinked multiple times before being greeted with wide eyes and gaping mouths from the twelve people present, "Why are you all looking at me like that?" She asked as she rubbed her left eye glanced at their clothes, "When did you guys start wearing military clothes? Where am I? How long was I out?"

.

.

.

"... Who are you?" Canada asked.


	3. Not Me

_"--bella!"_

_Me duele la cabeza (My head hurts)._

_"Is she okay?!"_

_Se siente... como si estoy flotando ligeramente en agua.... (It feels like..... I'm floating leisurely in water)._

_"ISABELLA!"_

_Quien me esta llamando (Whose calling me)? La muerte (Death)? Me mori (Did I die)?_

_"What the fuck did you do Gilbert!"_

_Esa voz... se me asa muy familiar... cuando la escucho me enojo pero... 'pero' que? (That voice... it sounds so familiar... hearing it makes me angry but... 'but' what?)_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is she okay? Is she breathing? Is she?! Is she?! Is she?!"

Mexico inhaled sharply before consequently roll on her side wheezing and wheezing for air like she really had been drowning in water. The frantic voices around her hushed at the gagging sounds she emitted which only caused the panic to return ten times more endearing.

"She's breathing but it sounds like she's choking!"

"Isabella can you hear me?"

"Ambulance?! Should I call an Ambulance?!"

"You bastard!! This is all your fault!! If you just watched--"

"I think she's trying to get up!"

With unsteady arms Mexico tried to prop herself up, long brown curls covering her line of sight, in a sitting position ignoring the wave of nausea churning her stomach and head. Although the thought of ruining one of America's "precious" establishment with last night's guacamole dinner was tempting; she didn't want to make herself look pitiful with the nations present. Strange that she hadn't heard any snickering or fake coughs from the others yet.

She managed to sit on her butt, swaying a little with her head looking down, feeling the nausea subside and soothing circles being rubbed on her back by a gentle hand. Wait, a gentle hand? Was somebody seriously touching her? Her eyes widened, feeling the same hand move to her head and part her hair in order to feel her forehead. Without thinking Mexico raised her head, the hand still firmly in place, and come face-to-face with the same olive-green eyes from her past, the olive-green eyes refusing to leave her alone even in the future.

 _España,_ she cringed.

He pulled his hand away with furrowed brows, "Isabel--" and received a fist in the face so strong it sent him flying three feet in the air and landing two meters away from the frightened, stiff nation.

Silence washed over the gathered friends as their eyes shifted from the perpetrator to the victim, unsure if what happened was really real or just their minds playing tricks on them. But the evidence, Mexico's hand still in a fit and outstretched on the very same spot Antonio's face was, spoke loud and clear. Lovino was the only one who went to check on Antonio.

"Why the hell did you do that, Isabella?" Alfred was the first to break the silence as he yelled at the person, who he thought was his sister, "He was only trying to help!"

More voices arose following the American's example on reprimanding the girl with, "What the hell were you thinking!?"

"Is Toni, alright?"

"The fuck's the matter with her?" More and more voices joined, causing the coach from earlier to move the kids away from the "rowdy" hooligans and scamper elsewhere. However, there disruptive banters were no match for the cries of a gun shot. 

One round was fired, snapping everybody's attention back onto "Isabella."

Mexico was standing but still disoriented if anyone noticed that she was holding her revolver with both hands tightly, nuzzle pointing at the ground. A scowl was placed firmly on her lips and her brown eyes were hard. She needed silence in order to think, and this was the quickest way to get what she wanted. Her eyes glanced at the ground before traveling up and down the form of every shocked individual. Their faces where smudged with mud and grass stains that also adorned their casual T-shirts, shorts, and knees. Obviously these guys had been in the middle of some intense game on a sunny evening like any other group of friends and her suspicions were confirmed. These were humans, not countries.

Feliciano, sensing the ominous mood tried to make the it lighter, "W-Where did you that gun? I-It's very--"

" _Cayate!_ " Another bullet hit the ground, an inch away from Feliciano's dirt-stained blue sneakers. The poor Italian yelped and jump back like the rest making Mexico feel bad but quickly wiping the expression from her face. She needed them to listen to her.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Her voice demanded with the faintest hint of accent. The revolver stayed in place but her fingers grazed the trigger; she was going to get an answer, one way or another. Especially after having to speak in _America's_ language. She couldn't help but spit at the ground.

Slowly very slowly, Alfred, Arthur, Matthew, Yao, Kiku, Ludwig, Ivan, and Francis brought their hands up, palms showing in surrender, and dared to take one step closer at the, what they deemed, very confused and amnesic girl, "Isabella--"

Three rounds were fired at the ground making the approaching party skip back as their hands covered their ears from the noise.

"Never!" Mexico snarled, her teeth bared and nostrils flaring and Ivan swore he saw her eyes turn red, " call me that!" Country or not, Mexico wouldn't let anyone with the exact same face as them call her that name, they lost the right after doing all those things to her.

"Why--"

"Because she's not Isabella," Lovino grunted as he finally came back to the group with a knocked-out Spaniard hanging from his back. He flinched at the sound of a bullet hitting the ground a centimeter from his foot and tossing a glare at the imposter while handing Antonio over to his brother and Ludwig. At the news, a soft murmur passed throughout the group and perplexed glances were shot in Mexico's direction and then back at Lovino.

Alfred frowned at the ridiculous impossibility, "What do you mean it's not Isabella? She looks just like her!" His childish blue eyes skimmed Mexico over finding everything in place: curly dark-brown hair like Antonio's reaching past her back, skin several shades darker just like their mom, and figure. Yup, everything was in check except that angry look on her face. Several people, including Matthew, nodded in agreement.

The elder Italian's eye twitched, " _Per amor di Dio!_ You stup-- look at her goddamn eyes! Since when does Isabella have brown eyes?! Are you really her brothers?!"

Eyes flickered at the look-alike and sure enough her eyes were a muddy brown. A simple, "Oh," rang through the stupefied group now fully aware that this was indeed not their friend or family. Lovino flailed his arm and stomped his feet in exasperation. Were these people blind?!

The Southern American Country had lowered her weapon, placing it on her side with the nuzzle pointed back at the ground, but both hands remained securely wrapped on the gun. Aside from being astonished by the Romano-look-alike's observational skills. Mexico realized how completely ordinary these country-look-alikes were. Their very forms radiated genuine concern for this "Isabella" person (who must look like her, honestly the thought made her want to hurl). That's when it occurred to the country that these people, completely ordinary citizens, would be of no help to her and that perhaps now was the time to make a quick get away (seeing as everyone was trying to wrap their heads about the realization), find a place to rest her aching head, and then figure out where the fuck she was because she was 100% certain she didn't belong here.

However it seemed that fate had a different plan because the moment her foot took a step back, someone in the group asked the question she dreaded to hear, "Then who is she?"

Lovino rolled his eyes, "Ask her yourself," and all eyes were on her again.

Mexico felt herself go tense again, from the weight their very curious eyes. She hadn't expected to give any sort of explanation to these people, she thought she'd be sprinting through the trees and long gone by now. Quickly, Mexico swung her gun and aimed at the person directly in front of her who, as fate would have it, was the Italian who had defended her.

At her action the startled humans jumped back, horrified expressions plastered on their faces, but Lovino remained as he was; unmoving with his hands facing out towards his chest and amber eyes starring down the Isabella-look-alike. Calmly cosing his eyes, he inhaled through his nose, took a step forward, and silently cursed as a gasp emanated from the crowd of freinds.

" _Fratello!_ Get away from her!" Feliciano cried practically watching his brother commit suicide in front of him, "She's going to shoot you!"

Lovino stopped, having considered what his brother said, but despite his sane mind he shook his head and continued to walk forward at the person holding the gun directly at him, but still hadn't pulled the trigger, "She's not going to shoot me..." He mumbled loud enough for Mexico to hear but the people behind him, "Who are you? How did you get here?" The Italian began to ask taking more than one step.

" _Fratello!_ "

"Shut up! She's not going to shoot me because her gun ran out of bullets!" The Italian turned around to yell at his younger brother, surprising those awake (including Mexico) in the process.

Stealthily, well, at least they thought they were being stealthy, Alfred, Matthew, Arthur, Yao, Kiku, Ludwig (upon Feliciano's pleads), Ivan, and Francis and Feliciano carrying the out-cold Antonio, made their way towards the Mexican and Italian.

Unaware of what the others were doing, Lovino continued to make his way. However, Mexico had caught their unsubtle movements from behind the Italian while also noticing that Lovino was less than four feet away. Faster, her heart beat was becoming faster as she imagined different yet similar looking people approaching her and it made her tremble.

Since Lovino was technically hiding her from view (from the guys seeing Mexico) he was the only one to notice her looking so... so blanched? Did something happen? Is she still feeling sick? He wondered before voicing his concern, "Hey, are you ok-- _Fuck_!" He felt the gun collide with his chest. A sound resonated from the force inserted into the metal weapon and causing the Italian to fall on his butt, "That hurt!" He screeched. The eleven behind him froze as they watched him land on the ground with the gun in hand.

"Why the fuck did yo--"

"Mexico!" The country barked, now looking at them all in the eyes, " I. Am. Mexico. A country, not your sister or a fucking human for that matter! I don't know how the hell I got here or where the hell I am, but I know this isn't where I belong! "

"Then where's--"

"Probably in my world? I don't know and I don't care! And before you ask any idiotic question, I'll tell you this so you can all try and imagine it! In my world there are countries that look similar to all of you and I. Hate. Every. Single. Fucking. One of them!" Her exclamation ceased after the country took one large gulp of air to satisfy her pulsating lungs.

Like many times that day the group of at least twenty young adults stood gaping or goggling at the person they once thought was Isabella, but now knew that she, with brown eyes full of scornful hatred (the word appropriate for this situation) was indeed not their young friend but a person who looked very much like her. Even with the impossibility proven true, their hearts still ached and how could the heart not? When this  "Mexico" person looked so much like the person each of them knew and loved. No words of comfort were shared or remarks. Only in the silence after the confession did everyone in the park at Long Island feel the breeze come from the north and pass through the group of humans and a country, nipping at their exposed patches of skin. Only then did they realize that today was incredibly cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Isabella had more luck with explaining her situation to the countries. She told them who she was (and saw Antonio #2, Lovino #2, Yao #2, and Matthew #2 visibly cringe); Isabella M. Jones-Carriedo a senior at One Wide World Academy. Where she was from; Long Island, New York. What she was doing before she came here; picking up a soccer ball before getting hit by a football. And the last thing she felt before waking up, "Mmm..." She rubbed her chin until she recalled something, "I felt like I was falling before I landed on something that broke my fall." America, Alfred #2 introduced himself as, had snickered at her response with Prussia, Gilbert #2.

Even though she responded honestly, the strangers had not been thoroughly convinced, so it seemed.

They huddled together like some sports team and discussed whether the girl had been telling the truth. Sadly, their conversations had not been quiet:

"What do you all think? Is she telling the truth?" Arthur #2 asked first.

"I am not sure."

"Me neither, aru." Yao #2 and Kiku #2 shook their heads telling the group that they were leaning more towards 'no.'

"I think her story's very interesting but It's definitely not possible. I mean another world? Seriously?" Isabella felt sort of shocked that someone with the same face as her own brother didn't trust her. It kind of hurt.

"Then pray tell, America. Who do you think she is?" Francis #2 gave him a look, challenging the boy to speak up and explain 'why would a girl who clearly looked like Mexico, declare herself to be someone else?'

"I don't know to prank us? Not pay her debts?"

"America," Arthur #2 sighed, "even Mexico, isn't stupid enough to do that, however, you are the exception."

 _Ah, so I look like "Mexico"... I was half-expecting that_ , she thought in her mind.

"I believe her." Matthew #2 said softly and that ignited a bickering session between the twelve people present and Isabella who just sat and watched.

It wasn't until an Elizabeta #2 came into the room, with several other people who she recognized but couldn't name, to testify and reveal more information about her unexpected arrival, "I--We-- saw her floating above Mexico, unconsciously might I add, and then fall on top of her. Also has anyone noticed anything different about her? She's telling the truth!" The others behind her nodded.

After her story was confirmed, the countries proceeded to introduce themselves, quite solemnly she might add as the majority of them forced a smile and clearly tried to avoid making eye contact with her, except America, Prussia, and Russia. Then again they began to huddle into a much larger group to involve their new advisers and further discuss what they were going to do about this... "unique problem."

"What are we going to do? We can't phone the Mexican government and say, "How are you? We're fine, getting nothing done as always and by the way, Mexico disappeared!" Romano exclaimed with uncharacteristic concern laced in usual grumpy voice.

" _Si_ , I agree with Roma. It'll cause anarchy and fear within the people." Italy nodded.

"And not to mention the loss of trade and production with us, _aru_." China added.

"It will cause damage." England clarified.

"I don't know about you all, but my people won't want to have to clean up after her mess." America sighed.

"We'll just have to hide the truth for now and they already know about the two week long meeting so it shouldn't be problem. If they call we can just tell her she's incredibly busy negotiating or something." Spain proposed and the others took a moment to think it over.

"We should do that especially after what she did today and how many countries would be wanting to take advantage of this. I know for certain that Switzerland and the Netherlands were very upset with her." Finland added and it seemed that they made up their minds and nodded in agreement.

"Now, the real question," Russia made a sideway glance at Isabella, "Is what we will be doing with her?" They all looked at her then.

In a way, Isabella felt very offended at their comments. She wasn't a child, eighteen-years-old in just a matter of days, but she sure did feel like one with these people. The way they looked at her, giving her sideways glances, pitiful stares, and comforting smiles like elementary school teachers on the first day of school. Did they think she was scared? An incompetent human? Is that why they were trying (and failing) to whisper? And why were they all acting like this? Weren't any of them friends? How they talked about the missing country, an ally, a friend, was in the most business like manner she had ever heard; even in the doctors office! Honestly, this was making Isabella's head hurt.

When she tuned her attention back at the huddled countries, Isabella only managed to catch the last part of their conversation, Mexico's living quarters at a temporary location. She looked outside the broken window, revealing a darkening sky and that's when it donned on her. Where was she going to stay? It was obvious none of these people knew exactly how she got here so they most likely don't know how to get her back either.

With a sigh she decided to ask," Um..," their heads snapped at her direction and she kind of regretted speaking, but only a little, "Where am I going to stay at? I could stay at a hotel or at Mexico's house If I have to."

The countries looked startled, but Spain responded, or at least tried to, "That's very... uh... generous of you to offer to do, however... Mexico's house here in the U.S. is kind of... er, uni--"

"It's a cruddy apartment around the bad part of town, but it's never the same when she comes up. Or, she usually just breaks into one of my houses or, I don't know, stays somewhere else." America answered in a uninterested tone, as if the choices his "technically sister" made were of no concern to him. Canada, though, gave him a swift elbow to the gut.

" I see... then a hotel or even a motel woul--"

"No!" Hungary, England, Spain, Romano, Italy, even America, Canada, and the others present quickly and very strongly turned her offer down.

Hungary cleared her throat, " Again, that's very kind of you, Isabella, but I'm sure your family back home wouldn't approve of you doing so."

England nodded and continued, " I'm sure one of us wouldn't mind you staying at with us."

The other countries nodded as well as America after receiving a loud slap on the back of his head by England and Romano. Though, the representation of South Italy didn't bother to nod. It wasn't like he had a say in the matter since his younger brother was already nodding. Also Spain didn't nod which she found odd since, if memory serves well, relations between the country of Spain and Mexico are very significant and strong.

"But we'll let you decide who you'd be willing to stay. So who would you like to go with?"

And that was how she ended up staying the Italian twin's pent house in San Diego (they told her where she was). It was both beautiful and wide and expensive, something a commoner like her or her family would only dream of renting much less own it. A gleaming red wood floor and stairs, black _chique_ furniture, potted white lilies, orchids, and _Forget-Me-Not(s)_ on any empty-flat surface, and the walls a simple white egg-shell color but cleverly and beautifully painted over by other designs and drawings; someone had a knack for art and Isabella was pretty sure she knew who.

" Don't just stand in the doorway like an idiot. Get inside, _ragazza_." An annoyed Romano said as he traveled around Isabella and walked up stairs with his luggage bags. To be honest, Isabella felt kind of hurt at the comment even more so that came from someone who looked like Lovino. Though, she had to remind herself, it's because he looks like Loivno that she decided to stay with the two "Italy(s)." Yes, he acts like a grump all the time, but he's secretly really nice.

Isabella couldn't help but smile at the memory when she saw the frowning Italian looking all flustered as she walked in his direction with a smile and asked, "Will you let me stay at your home?" He had sputtered a string of unintelligible words before asking her why, "Because you look a lot like a dear friend of mine and I think I'll feel safe around you." though he cursed under his breath he gave up in the end.

Veneziano, North Italy, witnessed what his big brother said to the girl and began to explain his attitude, " Big brother Roman may act all grumpy and act like he doesn't care, but really he's just a very shy person!" He smiled at the girl and to his surprise she nodded.

"A very awkward person too, but with a big heart!" Isabella even smiled surprising the nation further but make him smile no less.

"Ah, your room is on the second floor. You must be very tired after what you've been through," and as if on cue the human girl yawned causing Italy to chuckle, " Come I'll show you and then you can rest." Isabella nodded as fatigue began to creep in on her.

About halfway up the stairs, Italy started asking questions about her world.

"Is there pasta in your world? Electronics? Robots?" He asked enthusiastically.

"We have pasta and electronics, but robots... I'm not sure. Do you have them here?"

"Not the kind that enslave the earth. What's your world like? Is it similar to this once?"

Isabella thought for a bit before answering, " It is similar, but the different, I can think. Well, the biggest difference I can think of is that my friends, who look like you guys, aren't countries."

Italy fell up the stairs (yes, he fell up the stairs) and landed on the second floor, face first with a very loud thud, "Italy!" Isabella exclaimed worriedly exclaimed as she made her way up the stairs, "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine? It's just..."

"Just?" She prodded.

"No, nothing!" He stood up and flashed her a grin, "Can you tell me about the person who looks like me?" His smile got brighter and so did his eyes.

"I'd be happy too," She smiled and closed her eyes to picture her Italian friend, "His name is Feliciano. Feliciano Vargas. He's twenty-years-old and goes to a university majoring in cooking. He loves to play soccer and is very friendly, clever, and kind. He also--" To her embarrassment she let out another yawn.

"Oh, sorry I forgot you were tired," Feli-- no-- Italy smiled sheepishly, "Come, I'll take you to your room now," and continued to show her where her room was. When they arrived outside at the fifth beautifully carved red-wood door, Isabella made a mental note to remember, Italy pushed opened the door and turned on the lights revealing a queen-sized bed on a dark-oak wood bed frame with beautiful picture of a very detailed rose and lily side by side over the bed frame of the room.

"How pretty..." Isabella whispered in a daze not hearing Italy tell her that he was going to check if the bathroom was stocked with toiletries. Then he moved to the closest making sure there wasn't anything there, but was surprised to see several women's clothing belonging to Mexico hanging on the hangers. Italy looked puzzled but smiled after he realized something.

"It seems like everything is in order. So you can go to sleep now." Isabella with half-closed eyes and a small yawn gave one tiny bob of her head. The country chuckled, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Isabella responded and he left turning off the lights and closing the door behind him leaving Isabella to just collapse on the bed not carrying that she was still wearing her clothes from earlier (jacket included). She was too tired to even think of taking them off.

Outside her room, Feliciano smiled to himself and turned to go straight to his but stopped. Startled to see his brother leaning against the wall, opposite of the five doors, being unusually quiet. His expression was unusual, not grumpy, as he looked at Italy in the eye. Veneziano smiled knowing all too well what his brother was thinking. Italy walked up to Romano and placed a hand on his shoulder, " I just put her sleep and she seemed fine as far as I could tell." He received a grunt in response, " Also do you know which of our housekeepers put out Mexico's clothes for her in the room? That was very nice of them! I'm sure she'll want to thank them in the morning." Romano shrugged his shoulders but there was an undeniable blush dusting over his nose.

The younger Italian chuckled, but raised his hands in mock surrender once the elder sent him a glare. Then Romano's expression turned grave making his brother's face do the same, "Don't worry Roma, I'm sure... I'm sure she's alright, I heard that the world she's in is similar to ours." He tried to smile but it didn't come out right.

"But she hates us..." Romano whispered and headed for their room, Italy slowly trotted behind him.

Only when Isabella was on the verge of sleep, did her mind have time to register what she had not noticed throughout the entire day. How odd that we realize things in the most unusual of time isn't it? With her face snuggled into a pillow on the wide bed and eyes drooping to a heavy close did the human wonder why the personified countries avoided calling her by name.


	4. Speical Chapter: The Valentine's Day Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a special!

This happened sometime before the strange line of events.

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"This is bullshit, Isabella! Complete bullshit!" An irate tan, pigtailed girl complained to the Mexican as they walked through the halls of their so called prestigious high school. Really, the only worth-while thing to mention about the school was their exchange student program that allowed the attendance of students from around the world to attend it here in America while living in the dorms the school provided.

Isabella sighed, having been the one to complain to all day by the majority of her friends the entire morning,"Calm down, Michelle. You don't really have the right to complain. You don't have a boyfriend remember?" She didn't intend to sound snippy but her pulsing brain was the one really suffering from having to repeat the same lines over and over again.

_Why did I agree to walk to class with her again when I knew this was going to happen?_

"Hey! I'm trying to stand up for all those who have to waste their time here in school instead of spending it with their boyfriend or girlfriend! Seriously! Why do we have to have school on Valentine's day?!" The Islander flailed her arms, incidentally causing her to throw her notebook a good ways away from where they stood on the second floor. Thankfully, no teachers or snitch-students were around to see what she had done.

"Again, you don't really have the right to complain, considering you were one of the many middle schoolers who voted to have school on this day like six years ago, remember?" How could anyone forget the day, when the high school student council members came to the secondary section and made the embarrassingly awful campaign to all the homerooms. Her's included and not, sadly, spared.

"It's not my fault! I was going through a hormonal phase! And the presence of your brothers and Francis didn't help at all!"

"They whose decision was it to vote 'yes' in the polls at the same time her only sane friend tried to tell her to vote for 'no'?" Isabella rolled her eyes and grimaced at both the memory of her brother's participation and the way Michelle described them like they were pieces of meat on display. No doubt about the majority of her friends and girls in school looked at them way. It was enough to make Isabella shudder.

Michelle must have given up, no longer seeing a reason to complain, as she merely flipped one of her hair and have a huffed,"Whatever," to the taller girl.

With another roll of her eyes, Isabella walked to pick up her friends notebook only to give the smaller girl time to calm down. She was glad, when she returned, to see her cheeks less red making the Mexican smile and urge her to,"Come on, let's get to class before the bell rings."

When the school day ended, Isabella walked home alone. Her friends, Michelle included, had been asked out by boys today and all of them had accepted. They didn't want to spend the Valentine's day along it seemed. Isabella had been asked out too, by several guys actually, but had declined all of their invitation as kindly as possibly. It didn't sit well with her, going out with a guy she barely knew on Valentine's day under the guise of 'hanging out' as friends when that wasn't their real intention.

She would have rather spent this day with one of her real friends like Lovino or Kiku or Antonio or her brothers or even Francis! (He was okay now since he had a real and committed girlfriend.) However, Arthur was out of the question, neither of them would have wanted to deal with a jealous-type Alfred for the entire day, even if it was funny to tease him with later. Well, any of them that were currently in a relationship she would want to avoid on this day, so cross Francis' name of the list too. It would be troublesome having to tolerate annoying partners, so best to stray from that path.

In all honesty, Isabella was finding the whole holiday silly to begin with, which was very unlike herself. De veras, why does there have to be a holiday that reminds people to say "I love you" to their significant other when they could do that everyday? Can't they all see that this holiday is just an excuse for business to produce advertised goods and commercialize them to the public all for the purpose of making a pretty-penny?! Adults fall for it every time when they go out to eat in fancy-smancy places and spend tons of money on luxurious gifts. All while they leave their children, brothers and sister included, feeling neglected with a last minute babysitter because the other one also had a date! The Mexican sulked but would never admit to it as she walked the path she took everyday to and from school. It felt longer when she walked alone.

Isabella was half-sulking as she rounded the corner and watched for the third house down only to see a group of people standing inside the yard and one of them rummaging through the potted plant her mom liked. Even though, logic screamed at her to call the police, Isabella strongly felt she really shouldn't and instead get closer. She had a good intuition about who these people were and what they were looking for (the key their mom and dad had moved from the plant to tape it under the mail box) but wasn't there any more. They didn't know that and the neighbors for she didn't know that either so with hurried steps she ran up to the house, "Guys! Guys! The key isn't ther- She stopped, she hadn't expected 1-2-3... 15 people to be at her house!

"Lovino? Kiku? Antonio? Yao? Ivan? Felil? Gil? Guys? What are you doing here?" Dropping some of the names she didn't want to say because she didn't have time to process all of their faces. Shaking her head a small frown of disapproval came over her lips, "You guys do realize it looks like you're trying to break into a house like some gangster paussi.

The realization must've not seemed real to them until the young girl voiced it out loud, but as it did in that very moment, the entire group paled first and her brother, Matthew surprisingly, put his hands up and backed away from the door, slowly. All of them looked quite bewildered by their actions and some muttered the comical, "I told you so," other just hung their heads in shame. The Mexican would have found this funny if she hadn't been in such a sulky mood, "You guys are so lucky that most of the people on this street are gone because it's Valentine's day."

"I-It's not what you think, Isabella," the timid Kiku defended, "Your mom and dad called us all to inform us you'd be alone today."

"Mom and dad did?"

"They did." Matthew nodded his head.

"But did they tell you all to come here?" She wasn't a child anymore, goddamit!

"No," Yao shook his head.

"It was just by chance that all of us were going to come over." Antonio added as many of the people began to nod their heads.

Alfred finally decided to chime in, "Yeah! Artie here, was super freaking out about you staying home alone on the night perverts crawl!"

"Oh, I was the one who was 'freaking out' now was I?" Arthur rolled his eyes and didn't look at the American who quickly realized the horrible mistake he made and tried to somehow appease it to his lover.

"Francis and his girlfriend couldn't make it though. We sent them back when he told us where they were going to eat." Matthew explained the obvious absence of the long-haired, blue-eyed Frenchman.

Isabella was hesitant to ask but did so anyway,"Was it that expensive?"

"An arm and a leg expensive." Ivan responded.

"I'm glad they didn't come."

"How about we all go inside and rent a movie? But first, isn't there something you want to give Isabella, Lovi?" Said Italian's face heated up as Antonio and Feliciano pushed him forward.

Lovino didn't manage to fall on his face, only tip slightly forward while throwing muttered cursed words to the Spaniard. He hesitantly moved forward and almost chickened out the minute someone let out a whistle. The action didn't escape Isabella's line of sight and it made her feel even more uneasy about what he was about to give her. Hopefully, not a prank, a courtesy of Alfred's.

"What is it?" The Mexican's eyes wavered as the Italian made a stop a few feet away, a safe distance.

"It's from all of us!" Alfred chirped, making Lovino's face frown and enhancing Isabella's unease.

"Here," the Italian grumpily said as he pushed a medium sized bouquet of incredibly colorful, incredibly beautiful set of Dahlias wrapped in an heart adorned bow. All except the yellow Dahlias, but to be truthful she wouldn't have cared if they were among the others.

These flowers couldn't have been cheap, Isabella realized as she looked at the freshly cut stems and still lively buds, even more so if they just got them today or specially ordered them. Even if they didn't, and but them all separately and just collected them together... Idiots.

Isabella couldn't help but smile at her idiocy for falling for such a commercialized product set on the holiday she just slandered. It was childish she had to admit but right now was not the time to think about that.

No, now was the time to say, "Gracias, los quiero mucho (Thank you, I love you (all) a lot)," smile again, and kiss them all on their cheek or forehead. Starting with the blushing, spluttering Italian who gave her the flowers to begin with.

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The air felt arid despite the new year the country entered in. It was normal, not peaceful, but not surprising either. It didn't make Mexico's neck hair stand on end like something bad was about to happen. However, that didn't mean something was happening right now. Politically, she was mess. Disorder ran a-muck in all regions of her being and the people were suffering.

However, even though she had many other, and more important, matters to deal with. She still had to deal with the poor business of distributing cacao beans to the countries that still bought the supply from her. The plant had once brought her wealth and prosperity for her was the only place where the bean could be found in order to make the mouth-watering delicacy known as chocolate, but has hence declined by the generations ability to grow the plant in climate-operated greenhouses around anywhere in the world. As well as the demand for the more authentic more delicious (she would never admit) chocolate Germany or other European nation could offer.

There were still some countries that had still remained in that business with her, more out of pity than not. Though it wasn't as profitable considering her biggest customer was America one of the countries with whom she signed the dreaded NATO agreement with forbidding any tax to be placed on exports among any of the North American countries. To this day, Mexico still kicks herself for it. But business was business, and she could really use the money.

Collecting was the fun part of the business, then came the moving, the cleaning, the weighing and the shipping of the product to wherever the heck the beans go. February was one of her personnel hells considering her taste for the sweet had diminished along with its productivity. Thankfully, she had managed to get all of the orders, her fresh orders, before the holiday event and was now in her home sitting down and looking through some of the old albums of servants who had worked for her and left them there for her to not feel lonely.

Looking at the photos, one every year or occasion, depicting the physical change of the people she knew and their love for a significant other, the country couldn't help but feel jealous of them, of the humans, so free, and loving yet corrupted in some way. However, no matter what, another human would still love them and blindly follow like some imbecile. But... the love that made them feel warm and full to a baby was one that anyone would have wanted. So, spending the day with even your family on this love themed holiday baking a cake or simply watching a movie would elate anyone.

So simple for a human, yet impossible for a country. But isn't that why they crave 'it'? Love.

" _... Ya no debo de ver esas novelas en la tele (I shouldn't being watching those soap operas in the TV anymore)_ ," Mexico sighed and raked her fingers through her curls. How troublesome it was to think that way. Saying, even thinking, "If I were human," was unhealthy.

Getting up from her place on the couch she began walking to the kitchen to put away the dishes she had used. It wasn't like being a country prohibited anyone from experiencing the feeling, it was just a lot harder to deal with and nurture, family more so than lovers. Though lovers did have some very fun advantages.

Just as she was about to wash the plate in her sink, someone knocked on the door. Tensing first, the Mexican slowly opened the utensil drawer and pulled out a stored hand gun, in case of any emergency she kept weapons everywhere in the house. With the gun in hand, she stuck to the wall as she arrived at the front door, leaning to the side. Another knock came and the country hesitantly asked, " _Mande_?"

Mexico half expected to be met with an army of bullets sending her door flying an men clad in black, branded clothes to march in the house. But nothing came. No searing pain of being shot at, or deafening sound of machine guns, they somehow got their hands on, or anything she had experienced and survived through in the last 50 years of her life. The knocking had also stopped. Seeing as either way she would still get shot at, survive, and harm those responsible. Mexico pulled the opened the door and faced right while pointing her weapon left.

No one was out there. The sun was setting over the horizon and owls hooted in the distance, reminding the country that she had to make sure and pray before going to bed. Her eyes glanced down to the ground and she jumped upon finding what had been left on her mat. It was not a grenade nor a decapitated head nor organ (like last Valentine's) but a plate, undecorated and white. Placed on top of the plate was the bud her national flower, smaller than the plate but still beautiful and ... brown?

Quickly scanning the area with her eyes, the country picked up the plate and hurriedly entered her house, knowing the dangerous of standing outside, distracted for too long. The light inside helped the female see the plant was indeed brown and not actually a plant at all. It was chocolate made into the shape of the flower bud of her national flower. In realization, Mexico's nose wrinkled in habit. Ignoring herself, the country noticed a folded piece of paper, placed delicately beneath the treat.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Mexico pulled the note out and looked at both sides. No name was written, but it was obvious the flower shaped chocolate was meant for her. If it was so much as a joke from her brother she would dump it in the trash before going to his place to cause havoc. But she opened the note just to make sure.

_Para Mi Amada Pais_

_Te Doy Esta Dahlia Especial_

_Preparada Sola Para Ti_

It read and confirming all suspicions that was indeed not from the Untied States at all. Handwriting was too elegant _and_ in Spanish.

So this was a treat prepared solely for her, huh? Surely, the sender must know that she disliked the delicacy, it's sweetness was overpowering if not made right and quite tacky if they didn't know what they were doing. However... being as it was made specially for her and not knowing who could have sent it (if it were a child of course she'd eat it) the country took a big risk.

Breaking off one of the petals, Mexico analyzed it as she slowly brought it up to her mouth. The color okay (it varied at certain placed, definitely the handiwork of a child that probably didn't cook it all), the sound it made was good, and it smelled fine. Now for the taste. She carelessly popped it in her mouth and chewed. To her surprise the treat was not sweet but quite bitter before before a small tint of sugar melted on her tongue but did not overpower the bitterness of dark chocolate. The chocolate was also unbelievable warm, like it had just been made by the hand of someone that truly knew and loved what they were doing.

This chocolate was reciting a story to Mexico. A story that said that from all the bitter and bad things one could come across from in the end the taste of accomplishment and overall victory was what she was working towards. Or was it telling her a story about someone loving her despite being they way she is?

Whatever it may be, she would think about it when she had the time because right now she wanted to finish her treat that someone had poured their all in by using her cacao beans (she hoped). Their love for Mexico.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But which Mexico? The country or the representation?


End file.
